What's the Problem Baby?
by fagur fiskur
Summary: Castiel and Dean entered a friends with benefits agreement a couple of years ago. Both want more, but neither will admit it. When other people start to get involved, will it finally push them together, or break them apart? Dean/Castiel, Castiel/Balthazar, Dean/Lisa
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** 30 (more) cheesy tropes: #7 Friends with benefits

Edit (12/1/2015): Part 2 really will be up a couple of days. I changed the title to something to fit better. It's taken from Accidentally in Love by Counting Crows.

* * *

**What's the Problem Baby?**

* * *

Castiel didn't need to open his eyes to know that he wasn't alone. These days, waking up in an empty bed was more of an anomaly than the other way around.

Cracking one eye open, the first thing Castiel saw was the back of Dean's head. His lips quirked in an involuntary smile. If it were up to him, he would wake up to this sight every single morning. He usually did.

Castiel scooted closer, now a bit more awake, and dropped a soft kiss on the back of Dean's neck.

"Were you watching me sleep again?" Dean mumbled.

"You were right there," Castiel said, wrapping his arm around Dean's chest, bringing them tighter together. He kissed Dean's neck again, then his shoulder. "You happened to fall into my line of sight."

Dean laughed. It was a soft, sleep-addled sound that caused Castiel's heart to speed up. "Creep."

The insult was immediately undercut as Dean turned around and pulled Castiel in for a kiss. They stayed like that for what felt like half an eternity, lips locked, legs tangled, bodies pressed together.

Then Dean's alarm started blaring.

"Crap." Dean pulled away, reaching for his phone on the night stand. "Crap. Okay, I need to get going."

But he didn't get up, and Castiel used the opportunity to drag him into his embrace again. "You can stay a few more minutes, can't you?"

Dean smiled, but shook his head. "I really can't. Not unless I want to be late for work."

"Then be late. I'm sure Bobby will understand."

"Yeah," Dean laughed. "I'll just tell him I was late 'cause I was screwing my best friend. He'll be real understanding."

And just like that, the illusion was shattered. Because it wasn't as if they were actually _together_. They were just friends. Admittedly, friends who had a lot of sex and slept in the same bed more often than not, but still just friends. At this point, Castiel should know better than to indulge his fantasies, but it seemed he could never learn.

He tried to keep the disappointment off his face, but it didn't matter. Dean had already turned away and gotten out of bed, and was picking up his clothes from the floor. The boxers he pulled on were most definitely not his, but Castiel decided not to say anything. If he couldn't be with Dean then at least something of his should be.

The pathetic thing was that it honestly made Castiel feel a little bit better.

"I'm gonna grab something from the kitchen, okay?" Dean asked, his voice muffled as he was pulling on his shirt.

Castiel didn't bother to answer. He didn't need to. Dean had always treated Castiel's apartment as his own, and vice versa. They'd been roommates in college and for a couple of years after, until one of them decided (and Castiel honestly couldn't remember who) that they were old enough and had enough money to live by themselves. Two apartments seemed like a waste most days, but Castiel was glad for this bit of distance. He wouldn't want to be sleeping in the next room over when Dean brought someone home, after all.

Castiel's depressing train of thought was broken by Dean leaning over and kissing him goodbye. It was just a peck but it lingered, and Castiel couldn't help but hope that it was a sign of Dean's reluctance to leave him. "We're on for tonight, right?"

Castiel's stomach sank. "Did we have something planned?"

"Since when do we need to make plans?"

"Since…" Castiel looked off to the side. He felt inexplicably guilty, but why should he? He wasn't doing anything wrong. They were just friends. "I have a date tonight."

"Oh." Dean cleared his throat, and Castiel glanced up at him. His eyebrows were furrowed. "Anyone I know?"

"It's Balthazar."

"Balthazar?" Dean repeated incredulously. "You're seriously going on a date with-"

Dean stopped speaking, apparently realizing that insulting Balthazar in front of Castiel was not the best idea. Aside from Dean, Balthazar was Castiel's oldest friend, although they had lost touch after he moved back to England.

"Has he," Dean paused, trying and failing spectacularly at hiding his distaste, "has he moved back to the States?"

"No, he's just here for a couple of months."

In all honesty, Castiel's first instinct when Balthazar asked him out had been to turn him down. Even if he weren't so hopelessly in love with Dean, it wasn't as if their relationship could have any future with Balthazar going back to England so soon. But then, that was exactly what Castiel needed; not a serious relationship, but a fun distraction from his feelings for Dean. Besides, he'd always enjoyed Balthazar's company, and Balthazar knew better than to expect any physical intimacy.

"Have fun, then."

Dean was out the door before Castiel could think to reply, and a short while later he heard the front door slam shut. Castiel rubbed his eyes, feeling frustration building in his chest. Had it been his imagination, or had Dean sounded angry? If so, was it anger born from jealousy or something else? Dean never had liked Balthazar, so maybe it was just over Castiel's choice of partner?

What business was that of his, anyway? He'd never shown any interest in expanding their relationship beyond what it currently was. Dean had no right to be angry. If he even was.

Castiel huffed. No matter how well he thought he knew Dean, there always came moments like these when he could impossibly tell what he was thinking or feeling.

His frustration was already giving way to a weary sadness, so Castiel decided to get out of bed before he started wallowing. He'd spent enough time uselessly contemplating his unrequited love. It was time to start moving on.

* * *

It had been four hours. Four hours since he'd said goodbye to Castiel, and yet Dean still couldn't stop thinking about what he'd said. He'd thought about it all morning while under the hoods of the various cars that came into Bobby's shop, and all the way to the coffee house where he'd arranged to meet Charlie for lunch. Stupid Cas, dropping his stupid, big revelations like that when he knew that Dean... well, he didn't know. That was the problem.

"He's going on a date."

"With someone other than you?" Charlie asked, casually taking a sip of her coffee as if Dean hadn't just told her earth-shattering news.

Dean scoffed. "When have we ever gone on a date?"

That was the worst of it. Castiel had never, in the eight years since they first met, gone on a date with anybody, never mind with Dean. Dean had figured he just wasn't interested in dating at all. Now he was suddenly going on a date with freaking _Balthazar_? What the hell was so great about him? What did he have that Dean didn't?

On second thought, that was not something Dean wanted answered.

"Well, to be fair," Charlie said, "it's been, like, two years since you guys started sleeping together. You two going out on a date wouldn't be too far out of the picture."

"We're just friends-"

"With benefits," Charlie finished for him, rolling her eyes. "Who sleep together both in the figurative and literal sense, and who always have dinner together, and pack each other lunch, and go to the movies and to art galleries together."

It wasn't always, Dean wanted to counter. And Cas was the one who dragged him to the stupid art galleries in the first place. Even if Dean did end up enjoying them more than he expected to. But somehow, pointing that out only made Charlie more determined to prove that they were somehow secretly dating. So secret, that Dean didn't even know about it.

"Is he serious about this Balthazar guy?" Charlie asked.

Dean leaned against the table, resting on his elbows and running his hands through his hair. "I don't know. He can't be. Balthazar's only in the country for a couple of months."

"There you go." Charlie nodded. "You've still got a chance, then."

"I've had my chance for two years," Dean reminded her. "Cas has never wanted more than exactly what we have. I'm obviously not someone he wants to settle with."

Charlie sighed. "I still think that you should just tell Cas how you feel. But," she added quickly when Dean opened his mouth to protest, "if you really don't want to, then maybe it's time you start to move on."

It wasn't the first time she'd suggested it, or even the second or third. But it was the first time since Cas had suddenly developed an interest in dating other people. Dean had been in love with Cas for nearly all of the eight years since they first met. The thought of moving on was terrifying. But the thought of hanging onto unrequited love for the rest of his life was even more so.

Charlie cleared her throat. "I could set you up with someone, if you want?"

"I don't need you to set me up," Dean scoffed. "I'm not _that_ desperate."

"She's Gilda's yoga teacher," Charlie said casually. "Dark hair, pretty, *very* flexible. And she happens to play for your team."

Dean's first thought was that Cas was all of those things too. God, how pathetic could he get? Maybe Charlie was right, not that he'd ever admit that out loud. "Do you have her number?"

Charlie grinned. "As a matter of fact, I do."

* * *

The thing was, the whole friends with benefits arrangement had been Castiel's own idea.

He'd never had much interest in sex, aside from in the abstract sense. He'd certainly never wanted to try it out himself. Even after he'd fallen for Dean, it had taken a little while before he'd started to think about him in sexual terms.

At first he'd been perfectly content with fantasies about kissing Dean and holding him, but eventually Castiel's thoughts had begun to trail further south. He'd liked the thought of making Dean feel good in that way. He hadn't been quite sure about letting Dean return the favor, but just the fact that he'd been willing to try spoke volumes.

He'd been drunk when he brought it up with Dean, of course. Castiel rarely drank, because it made him reckless and prone to acting on stupid ideas. Stupid ideas like propositioning his best friend. Dean had been drinking as well, and he'd gone past the jovial singing stage, past the quiet contemplation stage, and straight into emotional and clingy. At some point, he'd laid down flat on the couch and rested his head in Castiel's lap.

It had been the physical proximity, as much as the alcohol, that had made Castiel say, "We should have sex."

Dean had blinked lazily up at him. "I thought you weren't into sex."

"I want to try," Castiel had told him, which wasn't exactly a lie. Just not the whole truth. "I think I might like it, if I did it with someone I trust. We could be friends with benefits."

It hadn't taken more to convince Dean. He'd grabbed the Castiel by the front of his shirt and tried to pull him into a kiss. Only, Castiel didn't bend that way. It had taken quite a bit of fumbling before their lips finally connected.

Castiel didn't remember what had happened after that, but he'd woken up the following morning in Dean's bed, with Dean snoring into his ear. While he'd still been contemplating sneaking out, Dean had opened his eyes and smiled at him in a way that instantly erased all of Castiel's regrets about the previous night.

They'd had slow, lazy morning sex. It hadn't been uncomfortable, as Castiel had feared. Every touch of Dean's bare skin against his had made sparks fly up Castiel's spine. It had felt like more than a physical connection; it was as if they were looking into each other's souls. Castiel had never been more in love with Dean than that morning.

And then, after it was over, Dean had said, "So, friends with benefits?"

"Yes," Castiel had replied, like his heart hadn't just been broken. "Friends with benefits."

And that had been that.

* * *

The first thing Balthazar did after spotting Castiel was to pull him into a hug. The second thing he did was slap him lightly on the ass.

Castiel smiled despite himself. "I see you haven't changed."

"You can't improve perfection, so why try?" Balthazar gestured vaguely into the air. "And I see you haven't changed either."

Balthazar had allowed Castiel to pick the restaurant for their date, presumably since he hadn't been back in the States for long. Since Heaven's Door was really the only restaurant Castiel frequented aside from the Roadhouse, and new places tended to make him anxious, the choice hadn't been difficult.

It also happened to be the last place where Castiel and Balthazar had dined together before Balthazar had moved to England.

"Or maybe you're just a closet romantic?" Balthazar added, shooting Castiel a smile that was almost uncharacteristically soft.

Castiel shrugged. "I'm afraid not. Just averse to change."

"Aren't we all."

The waitress, a young woman named Hael, came to lead them to their table. Castiel was on first name basis with most of the waiting staff, but he'd always held a special affinity for Hael. The stiff way she carried herself and the formal way she spoke reminded Castiel of his own younger self. Before he'd met Dean, of course.

They passed Castiel's usual table, which stood empty, and were instead seated in a fairly secluded corner. It wasn't yet dark outside, and yet the candle on the table was lit. As Hael left them to pursue the menu in peace, she gave Castiel a small wink. The movement looked awkward and unpracticed on her face, but the implication was clear.

Well. This was what Castiel got for complaining about his romantic troubles to the waiting staff.

Balthazar laughed, shaking Castiel from his thoughts. "My God, even the menu is the same."

Castiel couldn't tell if Balthazar was happy with that revelation, or if he was being derisive about it. It bothered him to realize that he couldn't read Balthazar anymore. He'd figured that going out with someone he already knew meant that he could skip the awkwardness he'd heard came with first dates. Apparently he wasn't getting off that easy.

They ordered their food and drinks. Once Hael had left with the menus, Balthazar leaned forward on his elbows and grinned.

"So, tell me Cassie," he said. "It's been three years since I left. Has anything changed at all?"

Castiel's mind immediately drifted towards Dean. Was it proper first date decorum to talk about your current sexual partners? Castiel hadn't been on one date since he and Dean started sleeping together, or since they met for that matter, and Dean was the first person Castiel had ever slept with. This was new territory for him.

Better to start with safer topics, he decided. "Mrs. Eisner retired, leaving me in charge of her bookstore. And I drive a Prius now."

"Of course you do."

Hael brought the wine - something Argentinian and red and just this side of too expensive that Balthazar had ordered for the both of them - and poured each of them a glass. Castiel took a sip of his. It didn't taste any better than the cheaper stuff he usually ordered, but what did he know.

"Is that all?"

Castiel put down his glass. "Sorry?"

"All that has changed," Balthazar clarified.

It was now or never. If he told Balthazar yes, he'd be outright lying to him. But he'd never told anyone about his relationship with Dean before. It felt too private to share, even with a man who was once his best friend.

"I mean, you're not still in love with Dean Winchester, are you?"

Castiel coughed, heat rising in his cheeks. Perhaps he could blame that on the wine? "Erm..."

"You aren't," Balthazar said, his expression disbelieving.

"I'm, uh." Castiel took another big sip of the wine. It didn't do much to calm his nerves. "It's complicated."

"It's been eight years, Cassie." Balthazar's tone was soft, almost pitying. "Don't you think it's time you let it go?"

Well, it couldn't get any worse from here. "This probably isn't the best time to mention it, but we've been in a sexual relationship for the past two years. Dean and I, that is."

"You've- then what are you doing here?"

"Eating dinner?"

"On a date with me." Balthazar leaned back in his seat. "Please don't tell me you just broke up with him. You know I don't do rebounds."

"We didn't break up," Castiel said. "Breaking up would imply we were ever together. We're just friends."

"Just friends," Balthazar repeated incredulously.

"Who occasionally sleep together."

Balthazar grabbed his glass and took a sip. He was silent for a short while, looking like he was mulling over Castiel's words. "I thought you weren't interested in sex," he finally said. "I thought you were... what's the term, asexual?"

"I thought so as well," Castiel admitted. "But with Dean it's... different."

"He didn't push you into it, did he?"

Castiel blanched. It seemed impossible to him, to even suggest that Dean would do something like that. "No!"

"Are you sure?" Balthazar asked, eyes narrowed.

"I'm sure. It was my idea. I..." Castiel hesitated, casting his eyes downwards. He felt awkward talking about this. He didn't even like talking with Dean about sex. "I wanted to try it out. With him. And I would have liked it if we could be together romantically as well, but that was never going to happen. So I suggested a casual arrangement, and he agreed. I had to try it," he added, and he wasn't sure if it was for his own benefit or Balthazar's. "It might end up hurting me in the long run, but I don't care. I didn't want to have any regrets."

Neither one of them spoke again until Hael arrived with their meals - two steaks, medium cooked for Castiel, raw and near bloody for Balthazar.

"I'm sorry," Castiel said after she had gone. "I didn't mean to ruin our date."

Balthazar picked up his utensils, and Castiel couldn't help but notice that he was refusing to meet Castiel's gaze. "Don't apologize, darling. The evening isn't over yet."

"Why did you ask me out?"

Castiel hadn't meant to ask it, but the question had been burning on his mind ever since Balthazar first suggested their date. Near as he could tell, Balthazar still enjoyed casual sex more than he did dating. Asking out Castiel, who was sure not to 'put out' as Dean referred to it, seemed counter-productive.

"It's like you said," and now Balthazar raised his head, looking Castiel straight in the eye, "I didn't want to have any regrets."

The implication of those words hit Castiel, causing his stomach to knot itself in discomfort. Had he inadvertently caused his friend the same kind of pain he himself was all too familiar with? "You mean-"

"Relax," Balthazar cut in. "It wasn't ever anything serious. It was... a fascination. A crush, as you Americans say. But I did wonder about it after I moved back to England, what might have been. Now I know." He raised his glass, grinning cheekily at Castiel. "Excruciatingly awkward."

Castiel laughed, feeling the knot in his stomach dissipate. Perhaps, if Balthazar could still joke around like this, their date might be salvageable.

* * *

Balthazar dropped Castiel off at his house with a respectable kiss on the cheek. He seemed to have picked up on the fact that just because Castiel was now having sex, that didn't make sexual attraction come any easier to him, for which Castiel was grateful. The rest of the date had gone decently. Castiel hadn't realized just how much he'd missed Balthazar until he had him back. He didn't feel any attraction to Balthazar, though, romantic or otherwise. There probably wouldn't be a second date, but Castiel was glad he'd at least gone on this one. It had been fun.

Castiel felt an odd pang in his chest as he entered his apartment. It was dark and empty, whereas usually he and Dean would already be sitting on the couch, watching something stupid on Netflix.

There was tension building underneath Castiel's skin. He wasn't exactly horny, but it was something approaching that. He craved Dean's touch, his affection. Whether he got it through sex or not was secondary.

It was strange, because usually Castiel didn't have any problem with going a few days without Dean. Possibly this was due to the fact that he'd deliberately denied himself Dean's presence. Either way, Castiel needed to see him.

He called Dean, too impatient to text him and have to wait for a response.

It only took a couple of rings for Dean to pick up. "Hi, Cas. Date's over already?"

"Could you come over?" Castiel asked instead of answering.

There was a brief silence on the other end. "Did it end badly?"

Dean sounded concerned, which made Castiel feel oddly disappointed. "No, but I don't think there will be another. Could you please just come over?"

"I'll be there in ten."

Dean hung up before Castiel could reply. Castiel put the phone down and wandered into the living room, collapsing on the couch. Why had be been so disappointed? Was it because he'd been hoping for some other reaction from Dean - joy, perhaps, at hearing that things hadn't worked out between Castiel and Balthazar?

Fortunately, at this point Castiel was well versed in ignoring his emotions when it came to Dean, so putting those thoughts aside proved easy. He got up, shucked off his trench coat, loosened his tie and, after brief consideration, went to get the bourbon hidden away in one of the kitchen cabinets. He didn't intend to get drunk, but his skin was still buzzing strangely and he needed something to take the edge off.

He poured the bourbon into two glasses and sat back down on the couch. He was half-way through his own glass when Dean arrived.

Dean had his own key to Castiel's apartment, so there was no knocking or ringing the bell. Castiel didn't even notice him until he sat down on the couch next to him.

"Are you sure it didn't end badly?" Dean asked, reaching for the untouched glass. "Cause getting drunk alone in the dark doesn't exactly scream successful date."

"I'm not alone," Castiel pointed out. "I knew you were coming."

"Doesn't answer my question."

Castiel ducked his head, looking at the amber liquid in his glass. "The date wasn't bad. It was quite enjoyable, actually."

"But?"

"But," Castiel sighed, "Balthazar and I are just meant to be friends. Nothing more."

"Not the kind of friends we are?" Dean asked jokingly.

Castiel looked up. His eyes wouldn't stay quite open, lids made heavy by exhaustion and alcohol. That didn't prevent him from taking in every detail in Dean's face; the slight flush high on his cheeks, the freckles only made more apparent by it, those long, dark eyelashes. "No," he finally said. "Not like we are. I have no other friends like you, Dean."

Dean swallowed, his Adam's apple bopping. Castiel's eyes followed the movement. He wanted to bite it, softly. It still felt strange to him, the pure physicality of his desire for Dean.

"Yeah?" Dean whispered. His breath hit Castiel's lips and it was only then that Castiel realized how close he'd gotten.

Castiel wasn't sure which one of them closed the gap, perhaps both, but it was closed, their lips meeting in a hungry, desperate kiss. Castiel wasted no time, pushing Dean back until they were both horizontal on the couch, Dean underneath him, clawing at his shirt in a clumsy effort to get it off. They broke apart, just long enough for Castiel to unbutton his shirt and Dean to pull his over his head, and then they were on each other again.

Dean's skin felt so warm under his hands, his heart already racing. Castiel lowered his head, biting at Dean's neck, causing Dean to moan. When they shifted, Castiel could feel Dean's cock through his pants, already hard. He kicked Dean's legs apart, then pressed with his thigh against Dean's groin.

"Fuck, Cas," Dean whimpered.

Castiel was suddenly desperate to get Dean to lose himself, to forget everything that wasn't Castiel and his touch and the pleasure he gave him, until all he could do was scream Castiel's name. A possessive hunger reared inside Castiel's chest, stronger than anything he'd felt since they first fell into bed together. Castiel wanted to _mark_ Dean, wanted to own him, body and soul, the way Dean already owned him. Castiel couldn't even entertain thoughts of falling in love with someone else, not while Dean was around, so why should Dean get to?

Castiel recoiled, struck by the cruelty of his own thoughts. He didn't get far, not with Dean's hands clinging to him.

Dean looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed. "Cas? You okay, man?"

"I..." He wasn't. He shouldn't be here, or Dean shouldn't. But he _needed_ Dean, needed this intimacy, even though it would be tainted by bitter disappointment when Dean inevitably left in the morning. Even though it already _was_ tainted by these dark, selfish thoughts that Castiel hadn't even realized he possessed.

Proceeding would be an incredibly bad idea, but Castiel did anyway, kissing Dean's brow until it smoothed. "I'm fine."

"We can stop," Dean suggested, but it was halfhearted.

"I'm _fine_," Castiel repeated, punctuating it by nipping at Dean's earlobe.

Dean shuddered, a small noise escaping him. "If you say so."

Their lips met again, more careful but no less passionate.

* * *

**A/N:** see my tumblr (link on my author's page) for drabbles that are too short to post here and scenes from upcoming fic


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Ahhh sorry this took so long! Ending's kinda blegh but at least it's done, and that's what's important right? Right?

* * *

**Part 2**

* * *

Lisa Braeden's phone number was still burning a hole in Dean's wallet.

He probably should have thrown it out already. He'd been tempted, after Cas' date with Balthazar ended with him calling Dean over and jumping him. It had been enough for Dean to start to think that maybe, Cas had had some sort of epiphany. Maybe he'd realized that he really did love Dean, that he wanted more than just sex from him.

But Cas hadn't said anything, and so Lisa Braeden's phone number stayed in Dean's wallet. Because Dean needed to move on, no matter how much he didn't want to. Doing it was just easier said than done.

It helped that he'd never met Lisa. All he knew about her was her name and number, both of which he'd gotten from Gilda, and the fact that she was apparently very bendy. She also wanted Dean to call, or so said Charlie.

Five days after Cas and Balthazar's date, Dean finally worked up the courage to call her. It didn't need to mean anything, he told himself. Just one conversation, possibly nothing more. Maybe one date. If Cas could date, then so could Dean.

It was a slow day at the garage, so Dean slipped away and locked himself in Bobby's office. He called Lisa, before he could talk himself out of it.

She picked up on the third ring. "Hello?"

"Uh, hi. This is Dean Winchester."

"Gilda's friend, right? I was beginning to think you wouldn't call."

Dean laughed. It was a stiff, awkward sound. What the hell was wrong with him? "Me too."

They both fell silent. Absently, Dean noted that Bobby was yelling at some poor soul just outside the office door. Probably Garth. Dude was not cut out to be a mechanic, but Bobby kept him on anyway for reasons beyond Dean's understanding.

"Was there anything else?" Lisa asked.

"I, shit," Dean blurted. "Yeah. Sorry, I'm not usually so bad at this."

"I'll spare you the trouble, then," Lisa said, and that was it, she was going to reject him before he'd even gotten to ask her out. "Do you want to grab dinner sometime?"

Or she was going to ask him out herself. Well, Dean had always liked assertive women. "Sure. This Friday? Six o'clock? I know this place that makes great burgers."

"It's a date."

* * *

Fortunately, the date went better than the phone call. Once Dean was face to face with Lisa (and _god _Charlie had been right, she was hot), it was like something in his brain clicked. He was good with women, always had been. He was just out of practice, seeing as how he'd given up dating around the fourth time he and Cas had slept together.

Lisa was great. She was not only hot, but funny as hell and really knew her shit when it came to music.

But she was also a mom.

"I thought I should tell you right away."

It was about that moment that Dean realized his fork had been sticking out of the corner of his mouth for the past half minute. He put it down and cleared his throat, looking for the right thing to say. "How, uh... how many?"

"Just the one boy." Lisa smiled, but it looked a little strained. She'd obviously had this conversation before, and had it end badly. Dean really didn't want to be the kind of douchebag who would put this expression on her face, but he still didn't know how to react. "His name is Ben. It's been just the two of us pretty much since he was born."

"Dad's an asshole?" Dean guessed.

Lisa laughed, the tension in her shoulders easing a bit. "Something like that."

"That sucks."

"I've come to terms with it, believe me." Lisa shrugged, taking a sip of her water. "But now you know the score. And I think it's also fair to tell you that I'm not looking for something casual. We can go on a few dates, see if this goes anywhere, but if you don't want anything serious then you need to tell me right away."

Dean _wasn't_ looking for anything serious, was the thing. This date with Lisa had been meant to be a distraction from his feelings for Cas (and man, putting it that way made Dean sound kind of like an asshole). The proper thing to do would be to tell Lisa that.

But then again, this might be what he really needed. What better way to get over Cas than to fall for someone else?

"I wouldn't rule anything out," Dean finally said.

Lisa grinned at him. She really had a beautiful smile. "I can work with that."

* * *

Dean had been distant lately.

It took Castiel a shamefully long time to notice, but work had been keeping him busy lately and he'd been meeting up with Balthazar nearly ever other evening. His relationship with Dean had kind of fallen by the wayside. But Castiel didn't want them to drift apart (although he probably could use a bit of distance) so when he finally did notice, he called Dean and tried to arrange dinner.

"Can't," was Dean's answer. "I'm going to dinner with Lisa."

Castiel's stomach sank. "Who is Lisa?"

"Didn't I tell you about her?"

Castiel shook his head, then remembered that Dean couldn't see him. "No. You didn't."

"She's just this chick I've been seeing. We've been on a few dates."

"Anything-" Castiel cleared his throat, uncomfortably aware of how raw his voice sounded. "Anything serious?"

There was a long, scary silence on Dean's end. "I don't know," he finally answered. "Not yet, but... we're seeing how it goes."

Castiel blinked. "That's good. I'm glad for you."

"Thanks." Dean sounded nervous, and Castiel could tell without seeing him that he was fiddling with with the collar on his shirt. "Actually, I meant to call you."

"Oh?"

"I just figured that since I'm trying to make things work with Lisa, I probably shouldn't, you know," Dean coughed, "be having sex with anyone else."

"No, of course not," Castiel said quickly. His heart was beating wildly, so loud he was almost sure Dean could hear it. He needed to hang up before he did something stupid, like beg Dean not to break off their arrangement. "I- I need to go. I can see my boss heading this way."

He hung up before Dean could answer. His heart was still pounding like he'd just run a marathon but his chest felt hollow. He and Dean had never actually been a couple, Castiel reminded himself. They'd never been together, so they couldn't break up. Dean couldn't just have dumped him. Castiel's heart couldn't be broken.

And maybe if he repeated that enough to himself, it would become true.

* * *

Dean cancelled his date with Lisa that night. His conversation with Cas left him feeling more down than he'd expected and there was no way he would be fun company tonight. He felt almost like he'd been dumped, only that didn't make any sense. He'd been the one doing the dumping, and it hadn't been a dumping since he and Cas had never been together.

But Dean was sick of telling himself that, so instead of dwelling on it, he sat down on the couch and turned on the TV. He stumbled on a Doctor Sexy MD rerun, and settled in for a long, lonely, pathetic night.

Five minutes later, the doorbell rang.

"No one's home," Dean shouted.

"Open up, dickhole," Charlie's voice shouted back through the door. "I've got beer."

Knowing that it would take forever to get rid of her, Dean got up and opened the door. "What?"

"Lisa just called Gilda for a girl's night out," Charlie explained. "You see, she had these tickets, since _someone _was supposed to go to the movies with her and bailed."

Dean had honestly forgotten about the tickets. "Still doesn't explain why you're here."

"Dude, you're sitting on the couch, watching," Charlie craned her head over Dean's shoulder, "Doctor Sexy MD, really? By yourself, when you should be out on a date. I figured it was my duty as your oldest and wisest friend to come over and comfort you."

"You are neither of those things."

Charlie raised her hand, pointedly wagging the six-pack of beer she was holding. "Are you gonna let me in?"

Dean sighed and stood aside, just barely resisting the urge to slam the door after Charlie had entered. "It didn't occur to you to leave me alone in my misery?"

"Leaving you alone in your misery has never ended well," Charlie said. "You mope and you blame yourself, and you end up more miserable than before. Now," she put the six-pack down on the kitchen counter, grabbing one can of beer for herself, "_why _exactly are you miserable? Did you and Lisa break up?"

Dean frowned. "No. Why, did she say something?"

"No." Charlie shrugged. "It's just the cancelled date, and you kind of giving off those just-been-dumped vibes..." she trailed off. "Wait, did Cas dump you? Is that what this is about?"

"Cas didn't dump me," Dean snapped. Then he added sullenly, "You have to be in a relationship to get dumped."

"But he did end your..." Charlie waved her hand, "thing."

Dean sat down on the couch and turned off the TV. No use keeping Doctor Sexy on if he couldn't give him the full attention he deserved. "He didn't. I did."

"You?" Charlie repeated incredulously, climbing onto the couch next to Dean, and putting her feet up in his lap.

"I'm dating Lisa now," Dean pointed out. "And she wants to get serious. At this point, sleeping with Cas would be cheating."

Charlie didn't reply, but stared down at the beer in her hands with a contemplative expression. Finally, she looked up and said, "Does Lisa know about Cas?"

"Of course not."

Charlie kicked Dean in the shoulder. "You're an idiot. Lisa deserves better than to be your rebound."

"She's not a rebound!" Dean protested.

"Oh, she so is. Strictly speaking, you and Cas may not have been dating, but for all intents and purposes you've been in a relationship for the past couple of years." Charlie's expression softened. "It's totally normal to be heartbroken over something like this, Dean. It's normal to need some time to get over it."

"I _am _over it."

Charlie obviously didn't believe him. Hell, Dean didn't believe himself, but it didn't matter. He was with Lisa now. Sweet, gorgeous Lisa who wanted to get serious. They had a chance at something real. They could become a family. Dean wasn't going to throw all that away over someone who would never love him back.

* * *

If Balthazar noticed Castiel acting any different he didn't say anything, and Castiel was grateful for it. He didn't want to talk about this with anyone. He'd prefer not to think about it at all, actually, but getting his brain to stop thinking about Dean was nearly impossible when practically everything in his apartment and work space, not to mention in various locations all over town, reminded him of some shared memory. Removing Dean completely out of his life would mean starting it wholly over again in another city.

But Castiel didn't want to rid himself of Dean. He just wanted to be over him already.

The problem was, he wasn't so sure he could do one without the other.

* * *

"Are you all right?"

Dean looked up, startled. "What?"

"Are you all right?" Lisa repeated.

After a few days of moping and ignoring Lisa's texts, Dean had finally gotten over himself enough to give her a call and arrange another date. Just something simple, burgers and beer. Dean wasn't really in the mood for it, but it was better than nothing. Or so he had figured.

"Sure." Dean shrugged. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"It's just that you've been picking at the label on your beer for about ten minutes now."

Dean glanced at the bottle in his hand. Sure enough, the label was mostly peeled off, tiny pieces of paper littering the table around it. "It's nothing."

"Doesn't feel like nothing." Lisa hesitated, biting her lower lip. "Is this about Cas?"

Something uncomfortably like guilt settled in Dean's gut. "You know Cas?"

It was the wrong thing to say, apparently, since Lisa sighed and leaned back in her chair. "I was afraid of that," she muttered. "So am I a rebound or the other woman?"

Dean fidgeted in his chair, unsure of what to say. Both were technically not the case, but saying neither felt too much like lying. "Cas and I never dated," he finally settled on. "He's a friend."

"A friend you're desperately in love with?" Lisa guessed.

"How do you know him?" Dean asked, a last desperate attempt to divert the conversation.

"I don't. Charlie told me to ask you about a Cas."

Dean ran a hand through his hair. "Fuck. Lisa-"

"I'm glad she did," Lisa cut in. "I like you, Dean. We've had fun. We might have had more than that, but not like this."

"You're dumping me," Dean said, the realization suddenly hitting him.

Lisa smiled sadly. "I'm sorry, but I can't be someone's consolation prize."

She reached for her wallet, pulling out a couple of twenties and dropping them on the table. Dean opened his mouth to protest, but she silenced him with a glance. She got up, circled the table and leaned down to to kiss Dean on the cheek.

"Take care, all right?" she whispered.

And then she was gone.

Dean watched her leave, feeling a strange blend of disappointment and relief. After a moment's thought, he signaled the nearest waiter and asked for a whiskey on the rocks.

* * *

Castiel was getting ready for bed when the doorbell rang.

Having spent most of the evening pouring over paperwork (because owning a bookstore involved a lot of paperwork, not for some silly reason like needing the distraction), he really wasn't in the mood for social interaction. He briefly considered not answering the door, but his conscience got the better of him; surely whoever it was had a good reason for visiting him so late.

He walked over to the intercom. "Yes?"

"Can I come in?"

It was Dean's voice. Castiel experienced sudden regret at not having gone with his first instinct. Dean was probably the last person he wanted to see right now. But he couldn't pretend not to be home now.

"Hang on a moment," he said, and buzzed Dean in.

He went out into the hallway and caught his reflection in the mirror on the wall. He ran his hand through his hair, but quickly concluded that it wouldn't do any good. Why should he want to look good for Dean, anyway?

A soft knock on the door pulled Castiel from his thoughts and he went to open it. Dean had been leaning on it and now he stumbled inside, catching himself just before he fell. It took Castiel only a moment to realize that he was drunk.

"What are you doing here, Dean?" he asked, annoyed. Whatever reason Dean had for drinking on a work night, it couldn't be good. Had he come here to have Castiel comfort him, after what he'd done?

Then again, it wasn't as if Dean knew how much he had hurt him.

"Had t'see you," Dean slurred. He was leaning against the wall now, slouching so he had to tilt his head up to look Castiel in the eyes. "I wanted..."

He trailed off, and Castiel felt his anger melt away despite himself.

"What happened?" he asked, grabbing Dean's arm and pulling it over his shoulder.

Dean looked at him, confused. "What?"

"You're drunk," Castiel pointed out. He put his own arm around Dean's waist and hauled him away from the wall, leading him to the living room. "You don't usually get drunk on work nights unless something is wrong."

"Nothing's wrong," Dean said. His head lolled against Castiel's shoulder, but his legs thankfully remained steady under him. "Lisa dumped me, but that's fine."

Castiel came to an abrupt stop, which Dean clearly did not expect since he tumbled ahead of him, and nearly went flying to the floor. Castiel managed to push him to the side at the last moment, onto the couch. "What?"

He was sure he had heard wrong. He must have. But Dean nodded. "Yeah, she dumped me. She was really nice about it, though."

Castiel sat down on the couch next to Dean, his mind still trying to grasp what Dean had just told him and how he should feel about it. He wanted to be happy, but he felt guilty for even thinking it. Dean was obviously hurting, no matter what he said. How could Castiel rejoice in Dean's misery?

"Did she say why?" he asked, not knowing what else to say.

For some reason, Dean smiled at that. "Yeah," he said. He raised his eyes to meet Castiel's, but immediately averted them again. "It's 'cause I'm in love with someone else."

"You're-" Castiel choked. Hope flared in his chest but he squashed it. If it wasn't him Dean was talking about... he couldn't stand to have his heart broken again. "Who?"

Dean looked up again. His eyes were glazed from the alcohol but he sounded completely sober when he said, "Who do you think?"

He leaned in. Castiel turned his head at the last moment, causing Dean's lips to hit his jaw.

"What'd you do that for?" Dean asked, pouting. "You know I was talking about you, right?" His eyes widened. "Are you dumping me, too?"

"I'm not dumping you," Castiel said calmly, though he felt like anything but. He felt lightheaded, almost dizzy, and his heart was pounding a tattoo against his chest. "But you're drunk, Dean. I need to know you'd say this if you were sober."

"I would," Dean quickly assured him.

Instead of trying to argue with him further, Castiel stood up. "Come on, let's get you to bed." When Dean's eyes lit up, he added, "To sleep this off."

"No fun," Dean mumbled, but he followed Castiel's lead as he pulled him up from the couch and steered him towards the bedroom.

Castiel sat Dean down on the bed, got down on his knees and started to pull off Dean's shoes and socks. When he looked up, Dean had already removed his shirt and was in the process of taking off his jeans. Figuring this was his cue to leave, Castiel got up.

"Where're you going?" Dean asked, worried eyes following Castiel.

"I'm going to sleep on the couch," Castiel said. Much as he wanted to, he'd figured it would be inappropriate to get in bed with Dean as the situation stood.

Dean shook his head. "No, stay."

"Dean..."

"I won't try anything," Dean promised. "Just sleep."

What little there was of Castiel's resolve crumbled and he nodded. Dean grinned, clearly pleased with himself, and got under the covers.

Castiel was acutely aware of Dean's eyes on him as he removed his clothes. He made quick work of it, deciding to leave his underwear on. Being completely naked still didn't feel appropriate, even if Dean was.

He got into bed. Dean was immediately pressed against him and Castiel considered pushing him away, but all Dean did was wrap his arms around him and bury his nose in Castiel's shoulder. He didn't even try one kiss, and Castiel didn't have the heart to deny either of them some innocent physical contact.

Castiel still wasn't all that tired, but he closed his eyes and listened as Dean's breath evened and slowed down. Eventually, he drifted off.

* * *

Dean was first aware of the warmth at his back. He huddled into it, feeling someone's arms tighten around him in response. For a little while he laid like this, drifting in and out of sleep. Next he knew, there was light hitting his eyes and his head hurt like a motherfucker. He moaned at the pain.

"Dean?" came Cas' voice from behind him. "Are you awake?"

The memories from the night before hit Dean all at once. "_Shit_."

He opened his eyes and turned around. Castiel looked him over, and Dean could tell that he was wondering if Dean regretted everything he'd said. "How are you feeling?"

"Head hurts," Dean grunted. "Other than that, I'm fine."

"That's good. Do you remember last night?"

Cas really didn't beat around the bush. It was one of the things Dean loved about him (_fuck_, there was that word again) but right now he wished he'd at least tried for empty small talk first before getting to the big stuff.

Then again, they'd been waiting two years to get to the big stuff.

"Yeah," Dean said. "I remember."

"Did you mean what you said?"

Dean licked his lips. His stomach was twisting itself into knots, as it hit him that Cas hadn't said anything back last night. For all Dean knew, he didn't consider him anything more than a friend. Maybe not even that, now that he knew how Dean felt.

"Dean?" Cas said. "Did you mean it?"

But Dean couldn't lie. The cat was basically out of the bag and even if he did claim it was all the alcohol, Cas would probably still look at him different. "Yeah."

He barely got the word out before Cas' lips were on his. Dean's brain shut down and he just kissed Cas back, messy and desperate, his hands clawing at Cas' back to bring him closer. Cas' hand came up to cup his cheek, tilting Dean's head so their lips connected properly.

Cas pulled back. "I love you, too," he said. "For so long."

Dean could feel himself flushing at the declaration. He still wasn't comfortable with saying or receiving those words, but despite the strong desire to hide his face and slam his hands over his ears, he couldn't help but smile.

* * *

Dean called in sick to work, while Castiel called his cashier Samandriel and asked him to handle the shop for the day. Then they stayed in bed for hours, alternatively just holding each other and making love (Cas insisted on calling it that, and Dean wasn't really in the mindset to disagree).

It was only fair, Dean argued. They'd been waiting for this day for two years. They deserved a little time off to celebrate.


End file.
